Page 102 of My Mafia King

I have to.

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CARMINA

A tiny soundmakes it to my ears.

It sounds like chimes, but I doubt it’s that.

Half asleep, I push up and look around the room.

Swiftly, I become aware of my surroundings painted in vivid colors.

I drop back and hide my face in the pillow when I hear that noise again.

It’s like someone’s touching chimes or Christmas bells.

It sounds like a soft melody, and it must be some device going off from time to time.

The place goes silent, and my eyes feel heavy, like I’m about to drift off to sleep again.

And then I hear his steady footsteps moving across the other room. They are not loud, quite the opposite, but they are firm, and he must be sunk in thought.

I listen to him as he spends a few moments in the living room before moving away, and I can only imagine he’s headed to his bedroom.

This is going to be strange as fuck.

I try not to think about it.

Well, good luck with that. The more I try to do that, the less I can focus on anything else.

This feels odd.

Minutes pass.

And then, half an hour.

It feels like an hour, and no matter what I do, I can’t sleep.

I should listen to my conscience and go there and speak to him.

It must be late, and this is not the best time to approach him.

I look at the clock.

It’s 3:23 AM.

No good conversation starts at 3:23 AM.

I give up and roll onto my back.

My eyes go to the ceiling.

Perhaps I should go there and see if he’s awake.

Maybe he can’t sleep, too.

Maybe he needs something.

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